


Yield To The Morning

by Thealmostrhetoricalquestion



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Introspection, It's All Very Soft Let Me Live, Lazy Mornings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23233834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thealmostrhetoricalquestion/pseuds/Thealmostrhetoricalquestion
Summary: Shadowhunters are not supposed to laze around in bed all day, but Alec fights that ingrained feeling ofnot doing enoughevery time he stays over at the loft.“Our bed,” Alec murmurs, when Magnus withdraws. But he says it quietly enough that Magnus can ignore it if he wants, can pretend that it was no more than a feverish mumble of someone caught in the grasp of sleep.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 30
Kudos: 277





	Yield To The Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Are people still reading/writing Malec? I hope so, I do miss them. I know I have plenty of WIP's but everything is a bit scary at the minute so I decided to write something utterly pointless and hopefully very soft instead. Enjoy!!
> 
> I'll do a little edit in the morning!

The bedsheets are soft. It feels wrong on all sorts of levels to focus on such a thing, but Alec can’t help it. The bedsheets in Magnus’s Loft are soft. The bed is warm and the quilt is thick enough to swaddle the sky. There’s enough room for him to lay there in the early morning light and push his feet into the mattress, push his toes into softness until they ache a little from the stretch. 

Shadowhunters aren’t supposed to linger in bed. Sure, the beds in the Institute are big and the sheets are expensive, but no matter what the thread count is, Alec never feels warm in his own bed. He doesn’t feel like he’s rolled around in sunlight. He doesn’t wake up and close his eyes again; not because he’s faced with the exhaustion of another day, but because the space beneath his back could hold him forever, if he wanted it to. 

But here, in Magnus’s loft, it’s warm and comfortable, and he can do all those things and more. Alec rolls the pads of his bare toes against soft sheets and marvels at how that smallest of actions can settle his nerves. This level of comfort is decadence, plain and simple, and Alec can’t find it in himself to mind. 

“Knock knock,” Magnus says, nudging the door open with his hip. “Planning on greeting the day at some point, pretty boy?”

Alec doesn’t bother to open his eyes; the raised eyebrows will do their job alone. ‘Pretty boy’ is arguably one of their earliest endearments, but it doesn’t get brought out all that often. They had the smallest disagreement about whether or not Magnus should use it when others were around, but that was because Jace went an awful shade of puce whenever he did. 

“I thought we agreed,” Alec says lightly. 

“Oh, please. You can’t expect me not to comment when you’re laid out in my bed like that.” The mattress bends under Magnus’s knee, yielding to his weight; Alec yields to the kiss that brushes the corner of his mouth. “Besides, nobody else can hear me.”

“Our bed,” Alec murmurs, when Magnus withdraws. But he says it quietly enough that Magnus can ignore it if he wants, can pretend that it was no more than a feverish mumble of someone caught up in sleep. 

There isn’t a response, but Magnus stops moving. The mattress stays dipped down, pulling Magnus into the warmth. Alec fights back the uneasy feeling in his chest and opens his eyes, unwilling to let the simplicity of such a morning fade away. When he blinks again and again, pushing away sleep, Magnus’s thoughtful gaze lingers on his eyelashes. They skim his cheeks; he can feel them, aware in a way he usually isn’t. 

He isn’t attuned to his own body the way other Shadowhunters are. Jace knows exactly how to move to attract attention, to beat back the odds. Isabelle knows precisely how to catch an eye, how to calm her breathing and steel her spine. They move like water, like starlings in a hedgerow, something so fiercely natural about their movements that nothing could fight it. 

Alec doesn’t. He knows how to use his strength and how to spar, and he knows how to use his body to bend an arrow through the air. But he _works_ at it. It doesn’t come naturally and he expects it never will. 

There is a moment, though, that he finds again and again when Magnus looks at him. A moment of explicit awareness. He can feel his hands trembling or lying steady on bare skin, he can feel every footprint burn into the cool Loft floors, he can feel the shake of his breath rattle through him when Magnus kisses his ear. It’s awareness. Magnus brings him into his body and makes it okay for him to stay there, even for the briefest moment. 

“I won’t argue with you there,” Magnus eventually says. “You couldn’t pay me to argue with you there. I’d have to lose on purpose, and then I’d be down a few reputation points, and a lot of money.”

Alec lets out a little snort, a combination of laughter and exasperation. He props himself up on his elbows, absently noting the softness and the way the bed props him up while pulling him in. But he fights it, leaning up and over so that he can kiss Magnus. 

“Reputation points?” Alec asks, pulling away slightly. 

“I never lose, Alexander. It’s a known fact.”

“I feel like you’ve definitely told me a story about being drunk in a bar and gambling away a gold chess set once.”

Magnus raises his hand and presses one slim index finger to Alec’s lip, frowning. “Now, why would you ruin a perfectly good morning with a lie like that?” Alec follows the little nudge of Magnus’s finger, flopping down against the bed with a laugh. He keeps laughing, tucking himself back under the covers, arms splayed out to the side, and tips his head to catch Magnus’s eyes. 

There’s a glint there that catches him off-guard. Not hunger, not quite, but definitely a _want_ that makes him shiver. Even after the nights they’ve spent together, and the pitfalls they’ve picked themselves up from, he still isn’t used to the way Magnus looks at him. 

“Far too pretty to be anything but a danger,” Magnus murmurs quietly. 

Alec’s mouth grows dry, and when he speaks, his voice comes out as a rasp. “Isn’t it your job to put a stop to dangerous things?”

The glint becomes a gleam. Magnus crawls forward up the bed, caging Alec in before sliding onto his side, bringing Alec with him until they’re kissing, legs tangled together. Alec’s thighs are bare, clad in boxers that are loose enough to roll up in the night. He can feel the scratch of Magnus’s trousers against his skin, but even that feels soft. Soft and warmth, rolling steadily into a heat that sends shivers racking down his spine. 

“If this is how you do your job,” Alec gets out, between messy kisses, “then I think I need a career change.”

“I have always preferred the hands-on approach.” As if to demonstrate, his palms slide downwards, sketching a line of fire from his shoulders to the small of his back, before dipping lower. The line is so cheesy that Alec laughs, but it gets caught in a groan, and he rolls over to straddle Magnus, knocking a delighted gasp out of him. 

He ducks down to kiss him again, but he doesn’t get far before there’s a hand back on his mouth. The tips of all Magnus’s fingers pressed into Alec’s lips. He blinks in bewilderment, and cocks an eyebrow impatiently. 

Magnus chuckles, tapping his fingers in place. “Don't let me stop you. But I did actually have a reason for prodding you awake earlier.”

Alec cocks the other eyebrow. 

“Mmm, your brother is sitting on our couch, waiting to see if you want to join him for an unscheduled morning patrol, since he’s been abandoned by his girlfriend, whose dastardly morning plans include sleeping in, like any sane person.” Magnus smirks up at him while Alec curses. “So it seems as though we have options.”

Alec knows what the options are. He can pick himself up off the warm bed and stumble out of the loft to track demons through the dirty streets, with his trouble-making brother, or he can stay here with Magnus, where it’s warm and soft and he feels _good_ in his body. 

It’s not really a choice that takes long to make. 

“I can always give you my opinion, but I think you know by now that I have very different ideas about what your Shadowhunter duties should be,” Magnus muses aloud. “They mainly involve a lot of leather, and wearing that holster that I had made for you.”

Alec reaches up and wraps his fingers absently around Magnus’s wrist, pressing a soft kiss to his palm. Magnus’s voice trails off, and in the quiet he reads surprise, excitement, and something warmer. Something deeper. He meets Magnus’s eyes and hopes that he can see the _want_ mirrored there. He shifts, pulling Magnus’s hand up to press more kisses to his skin, to the dip of his knuckles, to the pads of his fingers. 

A plume of shivering blue magic streaks from Magnus’s other fingers, and darts along the floor. The bedroom door shuts behind it, and Alec feels a startled jolt through his bond, before Magnus cups his face and flashes his cat eyes, thoroughly eradicating all thought. 

“It’s not an engraved postcard, but I think he should get the message.”

**Author's Note:**

> I suppose it's not really introspection, but there's a bit here! Also can you tell that I have not had to battle with Titles and summaries in a while, oh my god. Feel free to say hi, I miss this fandom! And thank you for reading! <3


End file.
